A Purrfect Alibi: A pawsitively gripping cozy mystery (The Oyster Cove Guesthouse Book 3)

Twenty

I found Esther in the front parlor. Good thing she was alone, maybe I could get her to tell me what the contents of the envelope were. Then again, maybe it wasn’t a good thing to be alone with her if she was the killer.

Nero and Marlowe were sitting on her lap. As I got closer, I could see she was feeding them some kind of treat. They didn’t seem bothered at all that she might be a killer, I could hear their purrs out in the hallway. Those furry little traitors would go to anyone for treats, yet when I put their dishes down with their nutritious cat food in it, they circled, sniffed and looked at me suspiciously as if I was trying to poison them.

Esther and the cats looked up as I approached. I gave Nero and Marlowe the stink-eye but they both just blinked at me with blank expressions.

I thrust the envelope out at her. “Just what is this?”

Meow. Nero sniffed the envelope and then squinted at me.

“You tell me.” She took the envelope cautiously. Playing dumb, was she? “Where did you get this?”

I fisted my hands on my hips. “Belinda at the bank gave it to me.”

Marlowe hopped on the table and stretched out to head-butt my hand. I relaxed and petted her soft head. At least there was one cat who knew which side to be on. Nero remained in Esther’s lap.

“Oh…” Esther put the envelope aside. “That Belinda sure is nice. This is just some research I had her do for me.”

“Research? On what?”

She glanced at the crystal ball and it sparked, attracting the cats’ attention. They batted it gently with their paws.

“You’ll have to wait and see about that. I can tell you one thing, that Victor isn’t going to get away with stealing the show this time.”

I didn’t know what to make of this. Esther was acting more like a kindly old lady than a killer, but maybe she was good at pretending. I was mulling over how to approach my interrogation when the sound of tires on the driveway caught my attention.

Mom and Millie were pulling to a stop and right behind them was Mike and then behind him was Myron.

Ughh. What was Myron doing here? It wasn’t even an hour ago that he’d been schmoozing with Rita Fortin at the bank. Maybe he was coming to scope out a location for the pool for the condos he’d build once he foreclosed on the loan? I know he’d said he was going to have Mike show him the gazebo at some point, but this soon? I wondered if he had ulterior motives. At least now I’d have backup if Esther tried anything. Though she didn’t seem like she was going to attack. She was simply sitting calmly in her chair, the cats back in her lap as if she had nothing to hide.

I stepped out into the foyer as Mom and Millie came through the door. Flora was dusting the Tiffany glass lamp on the round mahogany table, apparently oblivious to our new arrivals.

“Oh, Josie, there you are. We just came from the sheriff’s office,” Millie said, glancing behind her as Mike and then Myron piled into the foyer.

“And?” I asked.

Millie looked deflated. “Nothing new on the case, but we ran into Mike there. He was coming here anyway so he followed us.”

Mike smiled. “Hey, Sunshine.”

“Hi. What brings you here?” Mike and Myron were starting to frequent the guesthouse as much as Millie and Mom did.

He held up the clipboard that was in his hand and tapped it with a pencil. “Permit for the gazebo, remember?”

I glanced at Myron at the mention of the gazebo. Mike had issued the permit so that was a good thing, right?

“I came because of the gazebo, too,” Myron said.

Mike frowned at him. “I hardly think that’s necessary. I wasn’t talking about much of anything, anyway. Ed can move forward with the work.” He raised a brow at me and handed me the permit.

Millie leveled a look at Myron. “Now, Myron, don’t you think you are getting a little too involved in the business here? Why, barely a day passes when you don’t stop by.”

Myron looked affronted. “Well, it is my investment.”

Mom clacked her tongue against the roof of her mouth. “Myron, look here. I know you have a crush on Josie but really your excuses to come here are growing quite thin.”

“And of no use,” Esther piped in from the parlor. “Remember, the ball showed tall, dark and handsome.” She shot me a knowing glance before casting an approving look in Mike’s direction.

Myron straightened the cuffs of his expensive gray suit. “As charming as Josie is, she is not the reason I come here. She’s a client, nothing more. It’s just that the bank wants to foster community ties. And with the Oyster Cove Guesthouse being such an important part of Oyster Cove history, I feel I have a duty to see it restored back to its former glory.” He leaned in and lowered his voice, although why he felt like he had to do that was beyond me, it wasn’t like there was anyone else in the foyer. “It’s good for business if the customers know that you have pride in your own community.”

“If you’ve come for the show, you’re all too early. That won’t be until ten p.m.” Victor strode down the hall. This time he was wearing a white golf shirt and tan khaki pants. I had to do a double take as I’d never seen him in anything but his velour jogging suits. “It seems ghosts like to operate under the cover of darkness.”

“Show?” Mike shot me a quizzical look.

Esther pushed up from the table, dislodging the cats who thudded to the floor. “Mr. Big Shot thinks that he’s going to talk to Jedediah Biddeford, but I have it on good authority that Jed won’t be speaking to him. And there is no treasure. Jed doesn’t need anyone making a mockery of him. But if his killer can be found, then I will be the one to do that, not Victor.”

“We’ll see about that.” Victor puffed up, his tone imbued with the utmost confidence. “I think the discovery of the treasure might make me famous.”

Millie huffed. “Good luck with that. The previous guests dug up the yard looking, along with half the town. Besides, there is no ghost.”

Thud!

We whirled around to see a Staffordshire figurine of a shepherdess with a baby lamb had fallen off the table. Lucky thing it had landed on the red-and-navy oriental carpet or it would have been in pieces. The cats were circling it sniffing and looking up at the table.

“That’s odd.” Millie picked it up and inspected it for damage. “I wonder how that—”

“WOOOOHOOOOAAAANNN…”

The eerie sound drifted through the air, freezing us all in our tracks. Even the cats seemed startled, cocking their heads to one side as if to try to determine what the strange noise was.

“OOOOHGAAAAAAAHHHH…”

“What the heck is that?” Mike asked.

“Is it the pipes?” I ventured, because what else could be making that ungodly noise?

“Sorry, Sunshine, that’s not the sound of any pipes I’ve ever heard.”

We were all silent, waiting to hear more, but not a sound came. I thought I could hear Myron whimpering behind Mom and Millie.

“You don’t think it really could be a ghost?” Mom asked.

Flora, who had been dusting the top of the newel post, turned around, holding the duster feather side up. “If you’ve got a ghost, I hope you don’t expect me to clean up after it. I don’t do ectoplasmic goo. That stuff is hard to get out of linens.”

“Don’t be silly. There must be a reasonable explanation…” Millie glanced up at the ceiling as if expecting to see a ghost floating around up there.

Esther crossed her arms over her chest and turned to Victor. “Maybe it’s Jed. Perhaps he’d like to speak to you now. Go ahead, talk to him. Enlighten us as to what he wants.”

“Uhh… that wasn’t the plan. I’m sure it’s not Jed.” Victor sounded nervous.

“You mean there might be two ghosts?” Mom asked. Surely she was joking. She didn’t really believe there was a ghost in the Oyster Cove Guesthouse, let alone two of them?

Myron peeked out from behind Mom and Millie. His eyes were as big as the old silver dollars he sold for a premium down at the bank, his shoulders were rounded and his hands stuffed in his pockets as if he were trying to become even smaller than he already was. He was probably hoping the ghost wouldn’t notice him and pick on one of us instead.

“A real ghost…” he managed to utter as he glanced at the grandfather clock in the corner. “Hmmm, look at the time. Guess I can’t go look at the gazebo after all. Gotta run!”

We all watched as he dashed out the door.

Ghost or not, Myron was spooked. This did not bode well for the guesthouse at all.